The Diagnosis
by pink-levicorpus
Summary: Rory and Logan have to deal when she recieves a troubling diagnosis.
1. Chapter 1

** Diagnosis

* * *

**

_But I have money!_ The minute the words escaped his lips Logan felt stupid. The doctor just stared at Logan quietly, a sad gleam in his eye. He knew the Huntzburger's well and to deliver such a diagnosis just about broke his heart. Logan shook his head, refusing to believe the inevitable. For the first time in his life the amount of money he had made no difference. The diagnosis wouldn't have changed if they had been living on the streets or living in the White House. _What's the point in making money then?_ Logan had asked himself furiously. _What's the point in working so hard if money can't even do anything to help people, or to save a life, to save Rory's life?_ Logan sighed heavily in an attempt to regain some of his composure. He was Logan Huntzburger; his name alone was supposed to represent courage and strength and now was one of those times he had been bred for. He had been raised knowing how to handle tragedies, or more specifically, _other_ people's tragedies. Family tragedies were kept mum and if they had to be leaked out then they were handled quickly. Something in his gut had told him that this kind of tragedy wasn't what he had been trained for.

"And, you're sure? There's nothing we can do?" Rory's voice was quiet and strained, as if she were still grasping at one last hope that maybe the doctor had been wrong. The doctor had seemed to soften under her hopeful tone and placed a hand on her thin shoulder.

"I'm sorry Mrs. Huntzburger. It has spread far too quickly. Now all we can do is wait—," the doctor had stopped suddenly as if realizing what he had been about to say. A single tear had slid down Rory's porcelain face as she finally admitted to defeat. Logan leaped to his feet in fury, not willing to give up.

"Now all we can do is wait for Rory to die? Is that what you were going to say? You aren't even going to try and save her? What kind of doctor are you? I should have your license revoked for—," Rory held up her hand to stop Logan before he said anything else.

"It's okay Logan, it's not his fault. He's just doing his job," Rory had said gently, sliding off of the exam table. Logan watched in horror as Rory put on her coat, gathering her purse and sunglasses, preparing to leave. _Was she really going to leave?_ Logan thought incredulously. _Was she really going to give up so quickly?_ Rory said a few more words to the doctor but Logan hear none of it. He was too focused on his wife. _Sure Rory has lost a lot of weight in the past few months but she's gaining it back_, Logan assured himself, ignoring how Rory's clothes seemed to pool around her slim frame. _She has looked pale but her color has been coming back_, Logan thought, _maybe there could be some mistake_—Logan knew it was ridiculous trying to reason out of the doctor's diagnosis. This was real, not some elaborate prank by Finn, unless—_no_, Logan told himself, even Finn had some morals.

"Are you ready?" Rory asked, heading towards the door. Logan snapped back to reality, pausing to gather his bearings. _No_, he thought, _I don't think I'll ever be ready_. Still, he grabbed for his coat, heading out the door with Rory one step ahead of him. They walked to the car in silence and climbed in. Logan started up the engine, ignoring how heavily everything was weighing down on the both of them.

"I don't know if I can handle this Rory, watching you die," Logan said suddenly, turning to Rory as the engine idled loudly. Rory didn't look at him but rather stared thoughtfully out the window. She pulled her coat on tighter around her body, soaking in the warmth. Her breathing was slow and methodical. She sat in silence for so long that Logan began to question whether or not he had actually voiced his thoughts aloud. Logan opened his mouth to repeat his statement but Rory held up her hand. Turning to face her husband, Rory prepared to speak.

"We'll get through it," she said softly, her voice melting into a whisper. After a moment's pause she turned away from her husband, her eyes returning to the scene outside her window. Logan shifted into reverse and headed out of the parking lot, his fears momentarily calmed by Rory's answer. _We'll get through it_, Logan assured himself, picking up the pace as he headed out towards the main street, _we always have before_.


	2. Luke's Diner

Logan pulled into a space across the street from Luke's diner and turned off the engine. He paused, staring at Rory. He didn't want to initiate movement and was waiting for Rory to make the first move. Rory however, remained still.

"Are you sure you want to do this Ror?" Logan asked quietly, reaching out to touch her shoulder. Despite the warm noonday sun her shoulder felt cold, her skin icy. She sighed, wiping at her eyes with the sleeve of her jacket. "We don't have to do this yet. We can go home if you want, tell her later," Logan offered but he knew that Rory would refuse. She was determined to tell Luke and Lorelai that day.

"No," Rory said softly, shaking her head. A few of her chocolaty brown tresses wriggled loose from her hair clip and fell playfully around her face. She looked up at Logan and for a moment he was reminded of the past, when everything had been perfect. In college, when they had paraded around, the king and queen of Yale. Everything had been so easy back then. They had been so happy. Life had been so easy. Rory had been so…healthy. Logan rubbed his temples, shaking the memory away. He couldn't—he wouldn't—let himself think about those days. Not yet anyway.

"Are you sure—," Logan began but stopped quickly when Rory nodded assuredly. She was so determined to do this but Logan knew it was tearing her apart. He hated seeing her like this, broken down, fragmented. He wanted her to be strong again, to be happy. The Rory he had once known and loved was gone now.

"Okay," Rory said with finality, fumbling to unclasp her seatbelt. She paused for only a second more and stepped out of the car, carefully pulling herself up. Logan followed suit, quickly hurrying to the other side of the car so he could help Rory across the street. She smiled at this, the familiar gleam returning to her beautiful blue eyes. Lacing her fingers in Logan's own Rory took a deep breath and prepared to tell her mother the news.

"Hey Luke, look who's here! Our favorite couple!" Lorelai shouted when Rory and Logan entered the diner. Lorelai hopped eagerly out of her seat and bounced over to her daughter, pulling her into a tight hug. "How'd it go?" Lorelai whispered into Rory's ear, unconcealed excitement coating her tone. For a second Rory was confused, _why does she sound so happy_, Rory asked herself. That's when she remembered. The realization hit her like a punch to the gut. The smile that Rory had carefully plastered onto her face dropped down to her stomach. Lorelai pulled away and greeted Logan with equal enthusiasm. _No_, Rory said to herself, _no, no, no! Please don't let her say anything!_ Rory could practically feel the words pressing to escape from her lips. She didn't want Logan—she didn't want anyone—to know what she had thought. Lorelai had pulled away from Logan and had dropped her arm lovingly around Rory's shoulder. Rory knew her mom was waiting for her to say something regarding the doctor's visit but she couldn't bring herself to say anything yet.

"Okay Lor, bring them up!" Luke's voice called down from his apartment above the kitchen. Lorelai turned to the two and smiled mischievously.

"Now Rory, I know you told me not to get too excited, but—," Lorelai's voice trailed away as she disappeared up the stairs. Rory stood, frozen in her spot. She didn't dare move.

"What's she talking about?" Logan asked, wrapping his arm around Rory's slim waist.

"Come on you two! Get those butts up here!" Lorelai demanded, poking her head down from the apartment. Her childlike excitement was almost contagious. Rory was tempted to ignore the diagnosis and go play along with her mother's excitement. _You're an adult now_, Rory reminded herself, _you can do this_.

"I think we'd better go then," Rory said with a forced laugh, slowly following her mother up the stairs.

"Okay, now—don't get mad Rory—I know you said you didn't want to say anything before you were sure, but I just had this feeling when you told me—," Lorelai began, leading the Rory and Logan over to where Luke's bed used to be. Hanging in the doorway was a large, glossy banner, screaming in large pastel letters: CONGRATULATIONS! On one of the end tables was a basket in the shape of a bassinet, filled with pink and blue baby stuff. Streamers were attached to the walls in funky patterns, ones that only Lorelai would think were beautiful. Rory froze when she saw it all; a visual reminder of the worst mistake she had ever made. She wished she had never said anything to her mother. She wished that she had never let herself believe in it either. How could I have thought I was pregnant? Rory demanded, suddenly furious with herself. She should have researched further, she should have been positive before she said anything, especially to her mother. "Should have's" flooded Rory's head. She didn't know what to do.

Logan was confused. He didn't know what Lorelai had meant by this. After ten years with Rory he had yet to understand the quirks between mother and daughter but from the look on Rory's face, Logan guessed that she too was out of the loop on this one. Lorelai just stood in the middle of all the banners, a euphoric grin plastered to her face.

"Well—," Lorelai asked, gesturing wildly to the decorations. Luke stood off to the side, a slow smile spread across his gruff features. Rory knew she had to say something before her mom did something really crazy like alert the entire town that Rory was going to have a baby!

"Mom, I'm not pregnant," Rory said suddenly, her words falling heavily between the four people in the room. Luke coughed awkwardly as Lorelai gaped, grasping for something—anything—to say.

"B-but, what—all the signs were there. You told me yourself," Lorelai blurted out uncomfortably, furrowing her brow in confusion. Rory looked at her feet. Logan however was in shock. _Rory thought she was pregnant?_ It broke his heart into a thousand pieces thinking of the heartache she must have felt when the doctor told her the true diagnosis. For the past few years Rory and Logan had tried to conceive but had thus far been unsuccessful. The thought that Rory had gotten her hopes up—Logan hated himself for not knowing.

"Well, the signs were there," Rory began slowly, struggling to maintain her composure. "I was sick every morning, I was tired a lot, food made me nauseous. I just thought—," Rory's voice dropped out suddenly as she buried her head into Logan's chest. He gripped her tightly, trying to soak up all of her pain. Lorelai looked on in shock, feeling foolish surrounded by all of the decorations. _I shouldn't have done this_, Lorelai scolded herself silently, _Luke told me not to do anything before I knew for sure_!

"What did the doctor say?" Luke's voice was quiet but pressing. It seemed to jolt everyone out of their personal reveries, bringing them all focused on one main point once more. Rory sighed, reluctantly pulling away from Logan's strong grasp. She wiped at her eyes, brushing the tears away for the umpteenth time that day. She took a breath, bracing herself.

"He said that the cancer came back. It spread too quickly this time." Rory wanted to say something more, a joke to lift everyone's spirits or some calming insight. What's the point? Rory asked herself, there's no use sugar-coating anything anymore. Luke stepped towards Lorelai, wrapping his arm around her. Looking at the two of them it was hard to say which one was supporting the other one more. Both were clearly broken. Silence blanketed the foursome. No one dared to move or speak in case it made the whole situation real. Finally, after a few minutes Lorelai stepped forward.

"Oh kid," Lorelai breathed, holding out her arms to her daughter and that was all it took to open the floodgates.


	3. Going Home

**Author's Note:** Okay, so this was my very first story and I've always gone back and hated how quickly and suddenly I ended it. I hope this provides a little more closure for readers.

* * *

Disclaimer: I don't own a thing

**Chapter Three**

Logan pulled into the driveway, rolling up towards the front door before cutting the engine. Rory awoke slowly, blinking awake and glancing around. They were home. Rory climbed slowly out of the car, watching as Logan circled around to the garage. A minute later he reappeared, jogging slowly towards Rory. She moved to unlock the front door but Logan reached out, catching her by her slim wrist.

"Rory," Logan whispered, cooing softly into her hair. She smelled so good. It was all he could do to keep from crushing her in his arms. He wanted to be so close to her, to feel her body against his. He knew that soon—too soon—she would be gone and he would no longer be able to hold her at all, much less in a giant bear hug. The couple remained locked in each other's arms for a while before finally moving apart. When Logan looked down at Rory her eyes were full of tears.

"I don't want to do this Logan, I just want to go back to how things were," Rory mumbled miserably. Logan stared at Rory, his heart reaching out to her. He didn't want her to have to go through it—any of it. If he could he would trade places with Rory in a second. But for the first time in his life, Logan Huntzburger was completely helpless.

* * *

Rory stood in her bedroom later that night, completely alone. She remembered the first time she had heard the diagnosis—she and Logan had been married just a little over a year and a half. They had been devastated but had faithfully gone to all of the doctor appointments, Rory had endured all of the chemotherapy and Logan had been there with her every step of the way. Rory, on her eternal quest for knowledge had done every bit of research on every topic imaginable. She had found potential causes and preventions, advice from doctor's, miracles and horror stories and in the end she had been lucky enough to actually _be _among one of the survivor stories. She and Logan had been ecstatic and had vowed to live life to the fullest. And they had. They had been going to exotic places, seeing everything they could, taking in the world. And in the past few years they had finally been talking about kids. Now though—everything was being thrown into a tailspin _again. _Rory just couldn't bear to put Logan through it all again. She knew that it had been hard for her, but she knew how terribly it had affected Logan as well. He had been a wreck and had nearly killed himself trying to be strong for Rory. 

"Hey Ror, I'm going to work in my office for a little while, okay?" Logan called through the bedroom door. Rory jumped, startled by his voice, and nodded to herself.

"Okay, I'll be up here," she called back after a moment as brightly as she could. It was the least she could do for him after all—try and act normal. She listened for his heavy footsteps to disappear down the hallway before collapsing into the bed, a sigh of anguish escaping her lips.

"Why is this happening—_again_?" She demanded of her pillow, slamming her fist weakly against the headboard. "Why is this happening to _me_?" With another cry of anger Rory buried herself in the swarms of blankets and pillows and settled into a restless night of sleep.

* * *

Logan sat in his office, absently rolling his glass paperweight. It had been a gift from Rory—for their first wedding anniversary. It was solid glass, like some psychic's crystal ball. On the outside the world's features were etched into the glass. Rory had laughed when she handed it to him, saying that he _acted _like he had the world in the palm of his hand and now he actually _could _hold it. They had laughed. At the time. _Why was it so damn funny again_, Logan wondered, a blast of anger suddenly surging through him. Nothing could be funny. Rory was _dying_. The doctor had given her a few months, a year tops. Anything beyond that would be a miracle. _That's what we'll have then_, Logan thought fiercely to himself. _If a miracle is what we need then a miracle is what we're going to get!_ Logan was no stranger with miracles. It had been a miracle that Rory had even agreed to go out with him in the first place and even more of a miracle that she had stayed with him through all of his antics. It had been a miracle that Rory had later agreed to _marry _him and even more of a miracle that they had survived so long. He thought for sure that eventually she would open her eyes and realize the insanity she had married into but she had never done that. She had kept on loving him for years which had been a miracle in itself. Logan only hoped that now a miracle was in reach. 

The clock chimed midnight long before Logan finally decided to go up to bed. He had resolved that he would do everything in his power to save Rory no matter what. He just hoped that all of his efforts would be enough. He stood up, pushing back from his desk so that his chair wobbled ominously before finally settling down in its rightful place. He looked down at the glass paperweight in his hand with a disparaging smirk painted across his chiseled features. _The world in my hand my ass, _he thought bitterly recalling how funny he thought the joke was at the time. If he _really _had control over that type of thing he wouldn't have made Rory get sick again. He wouldn't have made herget sick in the _first _place for that matter. Now the paperweight seemed so...insignificant. A piece of glass couldn't represent the earth. It couldn't represent anything. It was just a stupid object madefor money. Money that did absolutely nothing in the end. Money that didn't save lives or help people. It just sat there, waiting to be spent on stupid glass paperweights. Logan stared atthe ball in his handfor a moment longer before heaving it against the wall, delighting as it shattered into a million sparkling shards.


End file.
